


The Benefits of Snow

by leftennant



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Smuff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 00:58:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1490818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/pseuds/leftennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little lesson on wilderness survival from the Doctor ends up causing romance and sexy times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [callistawolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callistawolf/gifts).



> Months ago I asked Calli for a story prompt and she requested a Ten and Rose smut involving cold temperatures and sharing body heat to keep warm. It took forever, and about ten rewrites, but here is the story. Finally. 
> 
> Not beta'd, because I'm impatient, so all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> I don't own any of the characters, or Doctor Who. There'd be way more snogging if I did.

They had been running for what seemed like hours. Escaping this particular angry despot turned out to be more difficult than they’d bargained for, and it didn’t help that sometime during the night there’d been an avalanche, effectively cutting them off from the TARDIS. The Doctor and Rose stood at the edge of a rock outcropping, sadly surveying the far too dangerous to climb cliffs that separated them from the time machine. 

Rose stamped her feet in a desperate bid to ward off the numbing chill, and the Doctor let out a huffing breath of frustration. The mercury was rapidly plummeting, and it was beginning to flurry, small flakes wafting by and catching in their hair and clothes. 

“What now?” Rose asked, brushing a bit of melting snow out of her eyes. 

He scanned their surroundings and the ominous clouds piling up beyond the mountains thoughtfully, one hand tugging his fringe while he thought. “Well…not much help for it with this storm coming. It looks like we’ll be bunking down here.”

She turned to him, startled. “What? _Here_ , here? On the ground? In the snow???”

“Rose, it’s not as if we’ve never had to make do before.” He replied absently, scouting the area, and running the sonic over various downed branches as he spoke.

“Yeah, but it’s freezing. You might have superior Gallifreyan biology or whatever, but I’m a human. I’d rather not die of exposure, thanks.”

“Good thing I’m going to build a shelter then, eh? Don’t worry, Rose, I’ve no intention of losing you to hypothermia. Aha! Look!” He smiled triumphantly and pointed to a sturdy branch nearly twice his size. “I think I’ve found our ridgepole. Now we just need a few supports.”

Rose was still standing there shivering, lip caught between her teeth in worry. The Doctor looked up, saw it, and crossed the small clearing in a few swift steps. 

He rested a hand on each of her shoulders and gazed reassuringly into her face. “Rose, really, it’s going to be fine. I promise. How is it that you can trust me to rescue you from a fleet of Daleks when I admit that I have no plan, but you doubt my skills in protecting you from the weather for one night?” 

He was right. She was just letting the situation get to her. They’d been in worse spots than this. The Doctor was still gazing encouragingly at her, and she answered him with a sheepish grin. “Right, supports. Tell me what I need to look for then.” 

“That’s more like the Rose Tyler I know.” He gave her shoulders a friendly squeeze before striding back across the clearing and buzzing the sonic over the ridgepole again. “See the size of this one? What I need are two other branches, the same thickness and about this high…” He held his hand out indicating the height. “…and they need to be forked at the top, so they can hold this one up.”

Rose nodded. “Got it. About three feet high and forked. Anything else?”

“We’ll need others too, to build the walls, and a lot of leaves and brush to insulate it. And I’d say we have about an hour to finish it before the weather gets really nasty.” The Doctor crouched down and began brushing debris off the intended ridgepole.

She glanced at the thickening snow swirling around them. “Is that enough time?” 

“It has to be, or we’re in for a cold, wet night,” he said matter of factly, swiping his hands over his trousers to dislodge the dirt with a frown. “Let’s get moving then.” He turned and began inspecting nearby sticks, choosing some and tossing the others away as he searched for what he wanted.

Rose starting hunting as well, bringing him the ones she thought would work and within half an hour, he had the basic structure standing. All that was left was to pad it with leaves to insulate it against the outside air, and stuff more inside to create a cozy nest they could sleep in. Not that Rose was exactly keen on sleeping on the forest floor in a bed made out of what might be bug infested leaves. However, she was even less keen on dying of exposure, so she thought it best to pick the lesser of two evils. 

Fortunately, the Doctor seemed to share her distaste of sleeping in a pile of brush because once they’d gotten the inside filled with leaves, he fished around in his coat pocket a moment before pulling out a neatly folded square of cloth and presenting it to her with a flourish. 

“What’s this?” she asked, taking it from him and turning it over in her hands.

He just smiled and said, “Shake it out.”

Rose gave it a vigorous shake and it unfurled into a decent size blanket made of thin but sturdy fabric. She threw her arms around him in a delighted hug. “I’m beginning to love those pockets of yours. I really didn't fancy waking up with a mouth full of leaves or whatever might be living in them.”

“Well…” he said, “…it might be a bit selfish on my part. I don't exactly fancy getting them stuck in my hair. Hadn't considered having them in my mouth. Eugh.”

Rose laughed and spread the blanket out inside the little peak-roofed hut, carefully tucking the edges under to cover all the prickly bits of debris on the floor. “There, snug and tidy. And just in time too, it’s really starting to pick up out here.”

He hummed in agreement as he knelt down and peered inside. “Very nice. Alright, ready to abscond to our hilltop hideaway, Lewis?”

“When you put it that way, how could a girl refuse?” she said with a good natured roll of her eyes. “Yeah, let’s get in. I’m kinda worried about my toes. Don’t think I’ve felt them once in the last half hour.”

The Doctor zeroed in on her in concern. “Half an hour?” He pulled her foot forward and examined the trainer in his hands. “These definitely weren’t built for mountaineering, or any sort of outdoor activity that doesn’t include pavement, really. Remind me to get you better footwear when we get back to the TARDIS.”

“Says the man wearing canvas trainers in a blizzard,” Rose retorted.

“ _I_ don’t get cold like you do. Now IN. I don’t want to imagine what Jackie would do to me if I brought you home missing toes from frostbite.”

“Slap you into next week, most like,” Rose replied as she scrambled a bit trying not to dislodge the blanket while climbing inside their shelter. “After she tore you limb from limb that is.”

“How very comforting. Now I’ll be having nightmares about your mum all night.”

“Like you’re really gonna be sleeping.” Rose countered. The Doctor froze, staring at her with the strangest expression and Rose burned red all over, realizing the possible implications of what she’d just said. 

He was still paused, halfway inside and halfway out, one hand on a stabilizing support for balance. His mouth twitched briefly before he said, “Do I want to ask what you meant by that?”

“Git,” she said, smacking him lightly on his arm. “You know perfectly well what I meant. Catching you sleeping is about as common as a unicorn sighting. I sometimes wonder if you even do sleep.”

“I sleep!” he said reproachfully. “You’ve _seen_ me sleeping. There was that time at Christmas…”

“You were having regeneration sickness,” she interrupted.

“…and…” he continued, ignoring the interruption, “…just a few weeks ago we _both_ fell asleep while watching 2001: A Space Odyssey.” 

Rose snorted. “Because it was the most boring film in the history of cinema.”

“It’s a classic,” he said defensively.

“It was terrible. You just pointed out that we both fell asleep. All that walking around a space ship doing nothing and that Hal thing pointing out the obvious every ten seconds.” Rose shrugged.

“Well… It does get better towards the end.”

“Has anyone ever stayed awake to confirm that?” she teased. “Look, all I’m saying is that neither one of us actually got to the end, whether it got better or not, because it was monumental bore. All it did was make me glad the TARDIS doesn’t talk.”

The Doctor looked offended. “She talks! You just don’t understand her, that’s not her fault. Although I say talking... It’s not talking as much as it is communicating…or possibly expressing…but she does get her point across when she wants. You know it’s actually more of an empathic catalogue of images, displayed telepathically in order to…” he began what sounded like it was going to be a lengthy dissertation on the speaking habits of the TARDIS. 

“Doctor,” Rose said, trying to get his attention. He continued rambling, looking off into the distance with his tongue pressed behind his front teeth as he searched for a word. “Doctor!” she said more loudly.

“Hm? Yes, what?” He looked at her curiously as if he’d just remembered she was there.

“You’re still outside. Getting covered with snow. Right now.” She pointed at the flakes rapidly congregating on his overcoat sleeves.

“Ah, yes. Right. Best come in then.” He stood, pulled his coat off, flapped it to remove the snow, and then slid inside next to Rose, deftly flipping the coat over both of them like a blanket. “How’s that? Warm enough?”

“Not really,” Rose said, “but I suppose it’s better than being out there. I’ll just think warm thoughts.”

“Oh I think I can do better than that,” the Doctor replied, wrapping one arm around her waist and hauling her close as she gave a small squeak of surprise. “There. All sorted?”

Rose lay there, lips mere inches away from his, and knew that no, she was decidedly _not_ sorted. For his part, he looked so very innocently satisfied with the arrangement that she almost wanted to laugh. It was all a bit maddening. Her blood was fizzing hotly through her veins at his casual embrace, and he was unaffected as usual. So Rose did the only thing she could do. She lied.

“Perfect,” she assured him, trying to wiggle some feeling back into her toes. “I won’t even need those warm thoughts now.” Unfortunately, she was immediately betrayed by a massive shiver.

“You certainly are _not_ perfect,” he said with concern. “Well, not your body temperature anyway, I’d never suggest your ehm…other parts…aren’t perfect.”

Rose looked at him sharply. Her _other parts_? What did he mean by that? To her amazement, it appeared that the Doctor was blushing. Although the light was very dim inside the shelter with night coming on. She’d probably imagined it. He was shifting around quite a bit at the moment, working at something with his free arm, so it was hard to tell.

“Ow!” Rose complained as his elbow made contact with her ribcage.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized. “I’m just trying to…there! Got it.” He pulled his suit jacket up between them. “Let me just…” And he spread it out over her shoulders underneath their makeshift blanket. 

“S’nice, but won’t you get cold now?” she asked, snuggling under the two layers.

“Not done,” was his only reply as he continued to scrabble around next to her.

Rose watched him with baffled interest for a few more seconds before it dawned on her that he was still undressing. In fact, unless she was mistaken, he was currently unlacing his trainers. But why would he do that unless… She swallowed hard as he brought up one knee and then the other. The Doctor was taking off his trousers. Rose groaned inwardly. 

She wondered if she should ask why he thought nudity was a good idea and then decided not to. He must have his reasons. Maybe he just slept this way. The Doctor. Sleeping in the nude. Dear God. She really needed to focus on something else. Like counting the roof supports or imagining her mum’s face if she could see her right now. Possibly both at the same time.

After what seemed like a far too short amount of time, the Doctor had managed to divest himself of everything except whatever he was wearing on his bottom half under his trousers. Rose was not about to consider _that_ overly much. She certainly had no intention of trying to look. Much.

He was carefully layering the rest of his clothes on top of his overcoat and smoothing them out, before running the sonic over them. “Never thought I’d be creating static cling on purpose, but desperate times call for desperate measures,” he said cheerfully, holding out his hand for the suit jacket. 

The minute Rose gave him back the jacket, an icy blast of wind blew in through the opening in the shelter. Her body responded with a flurry of violent shivers. The Doctor regarded her anxiously, lips pressed together in a tight line. 

“Rose, remember what I just said about desperate measures?” he asked. She nodded. “I need you to do something, and it’s going to sound crazy, but you have to trust me. Can you do that?”

“Y-yeah, ‘course. You know I t-t-trust you,” she bit out through her chattering teeth.

"Right. Good. Right," he said again. 

The Doctor seemed to be hedging. Rose began to get nervous.

"Well? What then? Why are you acting so weird?"

“Weird? I'm not being weird. Funny word, weird. D'you know it's Germanic in origin? It originally meant having the power to control destiny. Which, well...actually I guess I am weird. Weeeeird. Weird. Weirrrrrd." He tried the word out few times, playing with the pronunciation, and then grinned at her.

"You're not just weird, you're barmy," Rose said, looking at him as if he'd lost it. "Now are you going to ask me the thing you wanted to ask, or am I going to get a history lesson on the word 'barmy' as well?"

"Oh, um, the thing I wanted to ask. Well, yes, best get on with that then, the asking bit. I mean, it's a small thing really. A um, small thing..." He scrubbed the back of his neck. "...regarding your clothes."

Rose blinked. "What about my clothes?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing much. It's just that I need you to take them off. Please," he added as an afterthought. 

Rose sat straight up, banging her head on the overhead supports and causing a small shower of snow to tumble down on them through the dead leaves covering the top. "You're asking me to strip off, in a makeshift tent, with you?"

"That's more or less sums it up, yes," he said, looking more uncomfortable by the second.

"No."

“Rose…” The Doctor sighed and rumpled his hair in agitation. “You said you’d trust me. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have a perfectly logical reason. You must know that.”

“Yeah?” she replied, “And just what is that reason? Because it sounds to me like…well…it sounds like….” She trailed off. What it sounded like was ordinary bloke bullshit. ‘Take off your clothes to save your life’, and whatnot. Except the Doctor was no ordinary bloke. Furthermore, he wasn’t interested in her that way. She knew it. Oh, this was going to be a mess. Because she was going to do as he asked, and then they were going to be in this tiny enclosure practically naked. Which reminded her… “Exactly how many clothes do I need to take off?” she asked warily.

Relief spread over his face at her acceptance. “Just the top ones, jacket, blouse, trousers. The rest shouldn’t matter that much.”

“So…” she said, trying to work her hoodie off without exposing any extra skin to the frigid air, “…how exactly is me getting undressed going to keep me warmer?”

“Body heat,” he replied simply. “I’ll transfer mine to you through skin to skin contact. It’s a very old and effective outdoor survival technique. Actually, I’m surprised you’re unaware of it.”

“We haven’t got much call for outdoor survival techniques in Peckham. We more or less turn on the heat and Bob’s your uncle. Wait though,” she said, furrowing her brow, “how are you gonna transfer body heat to me? No offense, Doctor, but you usually run on the cold side. M’not exactly sure how that’s going to help me much.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “That won’t be a problem, I’ll just regulate my body temperature to fit your needs.”

Rose’s jaw dropped. “What, you mean like changing how warm you are? You can do that? Clever. How’s it work?”

“Perhaps we could save the lesson on Gallifreyan biology for another time,”he said, with a bit of impatience. “This isn’t exactly getting your trousers off, Rose, and the sooner you do that, the sooner we can…” The Doctor stopped, noticing Rose’s wide-eyed astonishment. “What?”

She couldn’t believe it. He really _was_ so completely oblivious that he didn’t even realize what he’d just said. Or how it sounded. Rose wasn’t about to tackle an explanation. Let him work it out. Which he appeared to be doing anyway. 

“What did I…? Oh. OH. That um…that wasn’t what I meant. I mean, I don’t know what you thought it meant, but it didn’t mean…you know. I’m just trying to keep you _warm_ , not…not… _other_ things.” he finished lamely.

God, this situation was just getting ridiculous. Now she was going to have to figure out a way to let him off the hook and to save face at the same time? Nothing doing. Besides, he hadn’t exactly let her off earlier when she said the thing about him not needing sleep. “Anytime you want to stop digging, Doctor, is fine with me. I think the hole is plenty big enough now. You might fall in.”

The Doctor flashed her a disapproving look. “Rose, really, you’re being a bit immature.”

She giggled.

He sighed.

After that there was a long stretch of tense silence. Rose was trying to undress as gracefully as possible under the circumstances, and the Doctor still seemed annoyed. Although whether that was with her or with his unintended sexually charged outburst, she had no idea. There was a pitched battle between the laces of her trainers and her nearly numb fingers, but other than that, she managed pretty well. It was only the work of a few minutes to wriggle out of her shirt and jeans, and she was left clad only in her bra and knickers.

Rose wordlessly handed him her small pile of clothes and he just as wordlessly took them, applying them to the top of the trench coat in the same way he’d done with his own. Once that was done, he lay back down and rolled to face her.

“This is going to be fairly awkward if we aren’t speaking,” he finally said with an apologetic, lopsided grin.

“Yeah,” she agreed, taking the olive branch. “Sorry I teased you.”

“Not your fault. Sometimes my gob just runs off without consulting me first.”

Now it was Rose’s turn to grin. “Sometimes?”

“Oi!” He sat up a bit in indignation, leaving a giant gap between the ground and the coat.

Rose reached out and yanked him back down. “Cold! Cold, cold, COLD!” 

Her haste made her uncoordinated, and the Doctor ended up practically on top of her. 

“Oof,” he said, breath temporarily knocked out of him by her exuberance, “for someone who’d doubted this particular wilderness survival technique, you certainly seem enthusiastic.”

Rose laughed. “Don’t turn this around on me, I was just trying to stop you from knocking off my blanket.”

“Well it worked. More or less. Here, let me just…” And he adjusted the pile of clothes over them again, before snuggling back down next to her. She stiffened a little, trying to keep a few inches of propriety between them and he frowned. “You do realize that I can’t help you stay warm unless we’re touching, yes? That is sort of the point.”

His statement made perfect sense, but she couldn’t bring herself to move closer. It was just too odd to have one of her pet fantasies come to life with him lying there completely unaware of it.

He seemed confused by her reluctance, and rubbed a hand over her arm in encouragement. “Rose, I won’t bite, you know. Just think of it as hugging. We do that all the time, right? In fact, we’re practically champions at it. That and hand-holding. If they had a hand holding Olympics, we’d win, hands down. Did you see what I just did there? Hand-holding? Winning hands down?” He beamed at her. “But, hugging, so much better than hand-holding, we’re absolutely great at it.”

“Yeah, but we usually have clothes on!” she blurted out, and then thought she die of the shame of it. Why had she said that? He was going to cotton on to the fact that she was a randy ape who didn’t think she could contain herself from attacking his Time Lordly body. 

Thankfully, the Doctor completely misunderstood. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything, unless… Oh Rose,” he said, giving her a kindly look, “if you’re worried that I won’t be able to control myself, there’s really nothing to worry about. I’ll be the perfect gentleman. You don’t need to waste another thought on that.”

She hated everything. EVERYTHING. This interminable night was never going to end, and she was going to have to spend in the arms of an asexual Time Lord she was randy for, who was doing her a favor by lending her his body for innocent, practical reasons. Life was unfair, and cruel…and several other things that involved a whole bunch of words her mum would have washed out of her mouth with soap.

The thing was, she was just so damn cold. Rose made a heroic effort to lock away all any inappropriate thoughts, and moved the scant few inches needed to bring her body in contact with his. The Doctor smiled affectionately and wormed his arm under her neck so that her head was resting on his shoulder. He wrapped the other one snugly around her waist and pulled her close enough that they had a few moments of sorting out whose leg got to be on top. (hers) And Rose found those thoughts rapidly bubbling up towards the surface again. 

The Doctor was being endearingly clueless about all of it, as he happily settled his head against hers and gave a contented sigh. She could feel his breath, warm on her forehead, and could make out the placement of each of his fingers on her skin. While he seemed completely at ease with holding her, Rose’s free hand was sixes and sevens, trying to find a place to rest that wasn’t his body. 

He noticed her restlessness and caught her right hand in his left, placing it firmly on his chest before curing his arm around her again. “Stop fidgeting, Rose. Just relax.”

She tried. Really. Tried so hard that the trying was starting to give her a headache. Instead of relaxing, she settled for just being as still as possible. Best to keep the friction at a minimum. So she lay there, feeling his twin heartbeats under her palm and trying to act like this was no big deal. The silence stretched out until it began to feel oppressive. She needed his constant chatter to distract her. 

Hoping that his silence was so she could go to sleep and not because he was tired, Rose tilted her head towards his and whispered, “Doctor?”

“Mmm?” he replied, shifting a bit so he could face her. 

“Do you um, have a plan? For getting to the TARDIS tomorrow, I mean.”

“Yep,” he said cheerfully, popping the P. “When we were gathering branches I noticed a trail leading down the side of the mountain behind us. Too steep and rocky to try at night during a storm, but we should be able to manage it in the morning. Why? Eager to get back to a real bed and indoor plumbing?”

“Something like that,” she replied. 

The Doctor smiled at her. “You _are_ a woman who enjoys her creature comforts.”

“Says the man who owns an entire walk-in full of hair products,” scoffed Rose.

“May I remind you that you picked half of them out?” he said, eyebrow quirked.

Rose pulled a face. “Only so that you had ones that didn’t smell like banana. Really, haven’t you ever heard of variety?”

“I _like_ banana. Anyway, I’m not wearing banana now.”

“I know,” she said without thinking, “it’s the one I bought you for that Christmassy holiday on the planet with all the hairdressers.”

“I remember. Coiffeuria, in the Pomadeo system, but how did you know that? Roooose,” he said teasingly, “have you been checking out my hair?”

She rolled away from him onto her back and folded her arms over her chest. “I recognized the smell, that’s all.”

The Doctor propped himself up on his elbow so he could lean over her. “That sounds like the sort of lie a person who’s been checking out my hair would tell.” 

“You are completely obsessed with your hair, you know that, right? S’weird.”

“You mean this hair?” He pointed to his fringe. “The hair you’ve been checking out?”

“I haven’t been …” Rose began and then realized she was almost shouting and modulated her tone. “I have _not_ been checking out your hair, you git!” Rose hissed in a stage whisper.

“Ok, ok,” he said mildly. “You haven’t been checking out my hair.”

“Right.”

It seemed settled for a second and then he popped back up with a dangerously gleeful expression. “Rose?” He paused, peering down at her narrowed eyes.

She regarded him cautiously, anticipating the arrival of the Oncoming Smirk at any moment. “What?”

“Wanna touch it?”


	2. Chapter 2

With an exasperated sigh, Rose pinched the bridge of her nose. “No.”

The leaves beneath them crinkled noisily as the Doctor rolled close enough that his fringe was practically brushing her forehead. “Touch it. Give it a ruffle. You know you want to,” he intoned in a sing-song voice.

“No I don’t,” she declared firmly. “Go. Away.”

“Oh come on, Rose. One touch.” He playfully grabbed one of her hands and began pulling it towards his head.

“Stoppit! I don’t wanna touch your bloody hair!” She snatched her hand away and shot him a furious glare.

He shrank back, confusion and hurt written all over his face, and she immediately felt waves of contrition wash over her. His response was completely justified. Their relationship was full of flirty little interactions, and it was totally unlike her to get angry over something like this.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t intend to upset you…”

Rose shook her head. “No. _I’m_ sorry. I’m just off tonight. S’not your fault. You’ve got great hair, Doctor. I’d love to ruffle it.”

“Rose, it’s fine. You don’t have to. It obviously made you uncomfortable so… It’s fine.”

“I want to. What’s a little hair ruffling amongst friends, right? Maybe we’d win an Olympics in that too.” She gave him a lop-sided grin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, c’mere.” She reached and he leaned and somewhere in the middle her fingers made contact with the silky strands of his fringe. 

It felt fantastic. Just like she’d imagined, only thicker and a bit softer. Rose ran her fingers over his scalp, lightly tickling, and continued down over the crown of his head to the base. Once there she swept back up along the sides, fingertips brushing lightly over his sideburns in front before diving back in and tousling his hair in earnest. God, she’d wanted to do this for so long. Which was exactly why she should probably stop. 

She started to move away, and the Doctor made a soft sound of protest. Rose glanced at him and felt her pulse began to quicken. He was leaning towards her, eyes closed, mouth slightly open and a look of sheer pleasure on his face. Her fingers stilled completely, then she brought her hands forward and down, so they were framing his cheekbones. The Doctor’s eyes opened, and she forgot how to breathe. The way he was looking at her. It was… Was… God, she thought she might melt from it.

“Rose,” he murmured, and she felt a jolt of heat straight through to her core.

“Doctor? Is this…are you…?” It was a request for permission, a reassurance that he wanted the same things she did.

“Oh Rose. Yes,” he said so quietly that she almost didn’t catch it.

The tightness in her chest that had been building for months disappeared without a trace, replaced by a different kind of tension, one that was quickly sending tendrils of want spiraling through her like fire. Rose closed her eyes against the onslaught of his gaze and her need. But the feeling was hypnotizing and she didn’t realize how far she’d leaned in towards him until she felt his lips whisper across her own. 

That seemed to be the invitation he was waiting for, and the Doctor wasted no time in closing the gap completely. His mouth was near to desperate as it moved over hers, one hand cupping the back of her head to seal her against him. Her lips parted in a moan, and he ran his tongue tentatively over hers as if he weren’t sure just how much she would allow.

Rose found herself with an irresistible urge to climb into his lap. She slid a bit closer, rising up on her knees to get a bit of leverage, and he seemed to realize immediately what she wanted, shifting so she could slip a leg over his. Once there, he pulled her down firmly into his lap, and just how very much he wanted this became starkly apparent. Rose ground down on his straining erection, and he groaned into her neck.

“Again. Oh Rose, do that…do that again,” he begged in a choked voice.

She did and he gasped, taking her hips in his hands and bucking up into her in a long, slow, grind. Then she felt his fingers tracing up her spine to find the clasp of her bra. He opened it with one, agile flick, and she quickly slid the straps off her shoulders and tossed it somewhere behind her. He began kissing his way down her neck, pausing to bite at the juncture where it met her shoulder. 

Roses back arched as he took a nipple in his mouth, while using a free hand to palm the other one, rolling it lightly between his fingers. All the while he kept up a gentle thrusting from underneath her as she rocked rhythmically down on him. The cloth between their bodies was becoming a maddening obstacle, Rose wanted it gone, but that would mean _moving_ and she didn’t want to stop their momentum for a second.

There’s another obstacle, though she’s trying to ignore it. The makeshift blanket had tumbled away long ago, and Rose was fighting off a shiver. It was losing battle, before long she’s trembling in his arms from more than just passion. 

The Doctor looked up in alarm. “You’re freezing. Why didn’t you say something?”

“Sorry,” she said, unhappy to be spoiling the moment.

“No, no. Don’t be. It just means we’ll have to adjust a few things.” And with that, he grabbed her tightly around the waist and gently flipped them over so she was lying under him. That done, he nodded in satisfaction and reached behind him, pulling the coat up to cover them both.

“Better?” He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. 

Rose sighed and snuggled down on the blanket atop the leaves. “Much.”

“Good. Now…I seem to recall we were in the middle of something.”

“Were we?” Rose couldn’t help but tease a little.

“Oh yes. I definitely remember that I was just about to get these off of you,” he replied, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her knickers and sliding them down her legs.

Rose helped him as best she could while trying not to dislodge his coat. Once off, he gave her a triumphant smile that, as luck would have it, turned into a triumphant snog. That led to several other celebratory snogs, which in turn led to him disappearing under the makeshift blanket as he worked his way down her body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. It wasn’t long before she felt his lips grazing the sensitive skin between her legs. 

He placed a kiss at the top of her sex, and then one further down. Just as she was wondering how long he planned to torture her, she felt his tongue slip over her clit. There were a few moments of hesitance as he explored her with tongue and fingers, light, soft touches making her writhe against him as he gauged her reaction. Then his technique changed, tongue rougher, skillful fingers slipping with measured intent through her slick folds and curling against her inside. 

Rose shook and cried out as he used mouth and fingers to drive her over the brink. Blanket fisted beneath her, neck arched and head thrown back, Rose gasped out his name as she came. She was still hardly able to believe he was the one touching her. _Her Doctor_. Finally.

She was still catching her breath as he began prowling back up her body, repeating the trail of kisses from before in reverse order. He ended at her lips, and Rose tasted herself on his tongue as he gave her a languid, teasing kiss. They rocked together slowly, the cotton of his boxer briefs rubbing deliciously against her thighs. 

Gradually the intensity increased, hips coming together in harder, more frantic motions. She slid a hand down between them and palmed his straining length through his pants, and he gasped into her mouth, babbling in a language she didn’t understand. Then he was speaking again, English this time, but in fragmented sentences, his eagerness to be nearer to her rendering his usually impressive powers of speech useless.

“Rose, I want… Please, let me…let me just… Oh may I? For so long, Rose, I’ve wanted, and now… Please…”

Rose couldn’t believe it. This man, who held all the power to change space and time in his hand, and he was begging for _her_. God she loved him. Reaching up to cup his face in her hand, Rose kissed him gently on the lips and said, “Doctor, yes. Yes of course.”

There was a moment of frenzied movement as he snatched off last barrier between them and then he was back, covering her with his body and capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. He was thrusting, but in his impatience, the angle wasn’t quite right. 

Rose wrapped gentle fingers around him, and guided him to her entrance. His head was bowed, muscles of his neck and shoulders tense as he finally pushed inside. A great, shuddering sigh went though his body then, and he lifted his face to look at her, eyes full of wonderment and desire.

“You… This… So, good. So very, very… Oh, Rose,” he sighed, flexing his hips and moaning as it caused him to go deeper.

“My Doctor,” she said, and he dropped his forehead to rest on hers.

“Yours,” he agreed, and withdrew a bit just to thrust back into her, hard. His eyelashes flickered, eyes closed then opened again, all dark dilated pupils and hazy lust-filled need.

“Just like that, Doctor, just… Oh God,” she moaned, as her hips rolled in tandem with his forceful thrusts. “Yes,” she gasped. “More.”

“No. More. Waiting,” he averred, punctuating each word with the movement of his body.

Rose felt her second orgasm building, spurred on as much by his words as it was by their physical connection. Her muscles clenching around him as she felt it coiling out from her center. 

He lifted his head in amazement. “Rose that, that feels so… Fuck. I can’t… This body, it’s not used to… _Fuck_ ,” he said again, struggling to maintain control.

It was the sound of that word in his mouth, that utter loss of control, that finally pushed her over the edge and Rose’s orgasm slammed through her with a raw intensity that was almost frightening. In that brilliant, blazing moment, Rose would have willingly laid her soul bare for him to see. She wanted him in every part of her, filling her up and making her whole. 

The Doctor thrust once, twice, in a desperate, staccato beat, before he was shaking in her arms as his own release overtook him. He managed to hold himself unsteadily above her a few moments more, and then rolled to the side, pulling Rose along with him until she was tucked up tightly on his chest. 

“That was lovely,” he said, turning his head so he could press a kiss on her temple.

“Mmm, yes.”

“We should do that again. Often. And when I say often, I mean daily.” He thought for a moment. “And nightly, although there really isn’t definitive night and day on the TARDIS. That might make things a bit confusing. I suppose we’ll work it out, though. We’re good at that, the working things out part. I mean look at us, not half an hour ago we were bickering over my hair and here we are post-shag. I’d say that’s some pretty impressive working things out, Rose Tyler, wouldn’t you?”

“Very,” she said, scooting over on her side so she could look at him. “So then tonight, it’s not just one of those things… You know, the kind where you forget it ever happened in the morning?”

His eyes widened. “You want to forget this in the morning?”

“NO! I mean, no of course not. I just thought, you know, maybe you would.”

“Never. I never want to forget this. Ever. Not a single second of it. And I certainly don’t plan on acting like it didn’t happen. Didn’t I just say that I wanted it to happen again, on a rather constant basis?” He scratched the side of his face. “Rose, I don’t just shag my companions, or anyone really. Not in a very long time, anyway.”

She nodded, but still felt unsure. “So why me then?”

“Weeeell,” he said drawing the word out, “you’re Rose Tyler. You’re the girl who saved a bloke she’d barely met from an alien threat she didn’t know existed without even batting an eye. The same one who refused to let me take on a fleet of Daleks by myself and convinced my own ship to take her back to me so she could save the day. You’re also the girl who stood in front of Queen Victoria in a _very_ short skirt and got her to say that she wasn’t amused. But most importantly, you are the most loyal, brilliant, kind, engaging girl in the universe. Is it any wonder that I’d want more?”

Rose laughed. “I guess if you put it like that, it all makes sense.”

“Of course it does. I’m a genius. A very happy, very sated, very lucky genius.” He beamed at her.

Rose traced a pattern across his chest with her fingertip. “Very sated, hm? So does that mean you wouldn’t be interested in…”

Before she could even finish the sentence, he was on her. “Definitely not. In fact, I’m quite, quite interested. Intensely interested. Oh look, proof of my interest, right there,” He said smugly, as the “proof” nudged insistently against her leg.

Oh, she would never, ever complain about the cold again.


End file.
